


If I Must

by diemarysues



Series: Marriage in the Manner of Dwarves [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt is that an exhausted King collapses into bed and is taken care of by gentle Hobbit hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Must

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Heyerette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyerette/gifts).



The bed was absolutely heavenly.

 

Perhaps that wasn't quite probable, seeing as Thorin was still in full regalia – boots and brigandine, coat and crown, sword and axe and beads. It wasn’t completely comfortable to have all the various bits and pieces poking into him, but the mere fact that he was no longer on his feet was utter relief.

 

His head felt like an overheated forge, one that had some philistine within, banging away at a shield with a hammer.

 

He was quite sure that any movement he made would only worsen his condition and so chose to sink even more completely into the cradle of the mattress. Thorin supposed that it was fitting that there was no way he had any energy to move anyway. Even his eyelids were heavy, refusing to even twitch when he felt another person climb onto the body.

 

Best to hope it was indeed his husband, instead of an intruder intent on killing him.

 

Vague relief filtered through Thorin’s mind when he felt a small hand caress his cheek. Perhaps he should have acknowledged Bilbo’s presence, but he couldn’t even muster the ability to open his eyes, much less talk. He managed to twitch the corner of his mouth into a half-smile, and heard Bilbo chuckle.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ve been apprised of the situation.”

 

Thorin tried to groan in reply. He didn’t even want to think about said ‘situation’. It’d only make him more tired.

 

Bilbo continued stroking his face, before he sighed softly and retracted his hand. Thorin frowned easily (though that was most likely due to the familiarity of the expression rather than any energy regained), but found his unspoken question answered when he felt the crown removed from his brow.

 

Oh.

 

“Don’t fret,” Bilbo said soothingly, and Thorin heard his crown being set on the bedside table. “Just let me take care of you.”

 

That sounded like fantastic news to Thorin and his worn out body. As tugging started on his boots he did feel rather guilty – and despite Bilbo’s advice, started to fret. Was he really so lazy that he couldn’t manage undressing himself? Hadn’t he worked harder in the forges, and managed to get himself ready for bed at least?

 

(The thought that he was now less energetic than in his youth did not cross his mind, of course.)

 

“Are you going to sleep in your coat?” Bilbo asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“No you’re not. Come along, husband mine. Get up and take it off, and take off your overtunic as well. You’ll be more comfortable for it.”

 

Thorin sighed, obligingly obeying Bilbo’s orders. “What was the point of asking if you aren’t even going to listen to me?”

 

“You’ll thank me for it come morning, I’m sure,” was the prim reply. “Look, I’ll even let you lay your head in my lap.”

 

Thorin’s tone was a clear mixture of piteous hopefulness. “Are you going to…?”

 

“Yes, my darling. Just let’s get your hair out of the way…” Bilbo held it away as Thorin lowered his head, and then positioned the locks so they were fanned around Thorin’s head. As always, the light tugs to his scalp made Thorin’s eyelids flutter closed. When Bilbo’s fingertips firmed their motion, Thorin moaned, soft.

 

It was unlikely that Bilbo possessed any magic in his being – unlike the Istari, and perhaps those cursed Elves – but it was truly miraculous how he could make Thorin so relaxed merely with the application of gentle pressure. He rubbed small circles into Thorin’s temples and the Dwarf groaned, only now beginning to relax.

 

“You are spoiled,” Bilbo remarked, loosing Thorin’s braids before starting to massage his scalp.

 

Thorin made a quiet sound of contentment. “Surely I’m allowed. Once in awhile.”

 

“Of course.” Bilbo was indulgent. “You are very hardworking, my King.”

 

“Indeed. It’s enough to deserve even a small amount of my Hobbit’s attention, surely.”

 

“You needn’t do anything to deserve this Hobbit’s attention.” A careful kiss was pressed to his brow. “I give it freely.”

 

“Unless you want something.”

 

“Hush, else I’ll stop.” The threat seemed to be an idle one, as he moved further down, softly rubbing the shells of his large ears. It was a surprisingly enjoyable sensation.

 

Thorin hummed, and was pleased when Bilbo joined in.

 

“Would that I could spend all my days like this,” Thorin said, long into the contented atmosphere between them.

 

He heard Bilbo chuckle. “You’d get nothing done. And my hands would fall off.”

 

“No, they wouldn’t. You’re hardier than that.” Thorin caught the hands in question and brought them to his mouth, brushing his lips over Bilbo’s palms one after the other. “My strong, clever, light-footed burglar.”

 

There was more laughter. “Thorin, you’re incorrigible. I think you must become more ridiculous the more tired you are.” He drummed his fingers along the strong line of Thorin’s jaw.

 

“I _am_ very tired.” He opened his eyes, gazing up at his husband and Consort. “Will you sleep with me?”

 

Bilbo sighed, and it sounded extremely long-suffering. “If I must.”

 

“You must.”

 

“Then I shall. Though only if you let me go, and let me lie down properly.”

 

The King pouted. “If I must.”

 

It shouldn’t have taken them long to get into position, with Bilbo’s head tucked under Thorin’s chin, but it did – thanks to the languid and lazy way both of them moved. There were very many lingering touches involved in getting ready for bed, after all, and Thorin was quite pleased with the generous swell of Bilbo’s backside under his palm. There was only one thing that would make the whole day worthwhile.

 

Bilbo squidged around, squinting at Thorin as if he knew what was on his mind. “What is it?” he asked warily.

 

Thorin didn’t smile. “Kiss me?”

**Author's Note:**

> Blah.


End file.
